


I Broke Down in the Courtyard When it Came to Light

by ulteriormotive



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Slow Burn, Teenage Drama, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-05-13 16:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14752076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ulteriormotive/pseuds/ulteriormotive
Summary: Cartman was left outside in the cold with discontent, and started his way home. The breeze started to pick up as Cartman walked over the mix of warm shades of the leaves. He didn't know why he decided to interact with Kenny after so many years, but, at the same time, he did know the reasoning. He just didn't want to think of it right now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After a year of working towards my writing, I have finally made this soon-to-be sad piece of shit. Enjoy xx  
> Also, don't worry, there is more than one chapter, I just don't know how to make it say that until I post another one  
> I'm estimating it to be like? 25 to 30 chapters? If I can keep up my motivation for this

The calamity of fall that washed over South Park each year never ceased to amaze Kenny. Sober or otherwise. The dark skies that became ombres of reds and pinks and oranges was something to truly witness, even if South Park was the low end of beautiful. The image of the sunrise with flecks of leaves running away across the sky would always be the only part of South Park Kenny would allow to stay with him. The breeze gazed Kenny’s bare shoulders, and it made goosebumps rise over his skin. He must've left his iconic orange parka somewhere in the party. But right now, he was too busy focusing on the churning in his stomach to even care about getting a cold. Speaking of which, Kenny grabbed his stomach, clenching his skin between his fingers as he keeled over to empty himself. He could feel snot and tears drip down on his face as he vomited what some would say violently. It was brown with pieces of sour patch kids spread out. He knew he shouldn't of drank on an empty stomach. 

“Christ,” said a familiar voice that must've snuck up behind him “That's hella gross. What the fuck did you drink?” 

Kenny turned to see Cartman stand towering over his kneeling body. He huffed and turned back to face the sky again. Kenny let himself fall from his knees to his ass to situate himself comfortably on the ground. His head became pounding as the early birds chirped. He let his face rest in his hands as he groaned. He pulled the skin from under his eyes down, trying to rub away the blurriness from his disappearing intoxication. His hands fell into his lap and he lifted his head back up. The bags under his eyes felt heavier. But his head felt lighter, despite the pain. He looked back up to Cartman with a reluctant move. 

“What do you want, pudgy?” 

Cartman feigned an insulted look and lifted his hand onto his chest. His other arm was occupied with a torn up orange coat belonging to Kenny. Kenny was quick to snatch it up without another word. 

“Wow, you’re welcome. And I'll have you know I'm just big boned. And that's a lot coming from you, because I doubt from the amount you drink on the weekends, you aren't forming a beer belly down there.” 

Kenny lifted a hand to his stomach to feel the pudge. Eric probably wasn't wrong. It actually surprised Kenny he wasn't dead from alcohol poisoning or liver failure. But that wouldn't matter. Even if he died, he wouldn't be gone for long. Kenny traced his eyes over the features of Cartman’s face. With a roll of his eyes, he looked back down from Eric and planted his hands on the ground next to him. 

“My question still stands.” Kenny responded. 

Cartman didn't respond, but shifted so he was standing next to Kenny. He looked up to the sky like Kenny was moments ago. 

“Listen, I was trying to enjoy the sunrise here, and I would really appreciate it if your ugly face didn't ruin that. So if you got no shit to say to me, hop off, man.” Kenny said tiredly. 

Eric scoffed before he sat next to Kenny. 

“You were always the bitchy one. If something twisted your granny panties the wrong way, you would retreat to insults, despite how wrong they were.” 

Kenny stayed quiet and rolled his neck. A few cracks and pops sounded from his neck and shoulders. 

“Man, you must've gotten fucked if you don't want to talk and run that bitch ugly mouth you have.” Cartman said moving a hand to Kenny’s shoulder, to which Kenny was quick to dodge. Eric lowered his hand awkwardly and into his hoodie pocket. “I just wanted to see if you were dead yet. The party ended ages ago and you've been sitting in the yard since. But I guess tonight is not the night of luck.” 

Kenny rolled his eyes again. He was watching a nest of hungry baby birds call for their mother, making sure not to look over to Cartman. The mother bird soon came swooping to the babies’ rescue as she fed them pre-chewed worms. Nature was grossly beautiful he thought. He also watched the sneaking of a squirrel that ran up the bark of the only Oak in the yard. Squirrels always seemed scared, like they were always being chased. Maybe they were hyper aware of the damage humans do, and they know the world was going to end soon. Either way, he could relate to the rodents. Or any rodent. That's what Kenny was, a squirrel, a rat, a scavenger. A coward hidden behind the facade of hyper masculinity and confidence. Kenny blinked at the view of a hand waving in front of his eyes. 

“Hello?” Cartman asked. 

“Why’re you still here?” Kenny asked in retaliation. 

“Damn, ouch, watch that venom in your voice. Attitude like that ain't gonna get you bitches. What were you hoping? That I would dissipate into the wind if you ignored me enough?” 

Kenny lifted himself into a kneeling position so that he could put one hand on his knee and another on the ground. He lifted himself up in a partial drunken stupor. He turned around, and he heard Cartman move behind him. But that didn't stop Kenny from walking away towards the house, that was until he felt a hand grab his shoulder. 

“Dude-” 

Kenny knocked the hand off his shoulder and turned back to look at Eric. 

“The fuck do you want? Because last time I checked, I was sure you haven't talked to me since last summer. Which coincidentally was when you joined those entitled, pussy ass, self proclaimed jocks. So what do you want now?” Kenny hissed out. 

Cartman took a step back, raising his hand lowly in defense as to say chill dude. 

“I don't know. I just saw you sitting out here like you were waiting for the sky to strike you down. Thought I might check on you, make sure you're somewhat okay.” 

Kenny huffed. “Yeah, okay, and I'm the queen of England.” 

Kenny turned back around and started walking to reach the other side of the house to get to his beater Jeep. He knew Cartman was following, he could practically feel his presence become overbearing. His Jeep was crooked in the long driveway of miscellaneous packages, bottles, and two deserted cars. His jeep was red, with the passenger side door a contrasting blue. A long split in the glass of the windshield spiraled midway to the other side, creating a spiderweb of fixing that would cost him money he didn't have. His fingers dug into his coat pockets, stumbling to find his keys. He tried the other pocket to find them, until he reached the back pocket of his Levis where he fished them out. 

“You're seriously not going to drive like that? A woman driving blindfolded with her own pad would be better than your drunk ass.” Cartman said, quickening his pace to guide next to Kenny. “Here, I'll drive you.” Eric said, dangling his own keys. 

“Thanks, but, I still would need to get my car back to my place. Might as well chance it. Not like it'll matter.” Kenny reached the driver's door and unlocked the door after many attempts to get the key in the hole. He pulled the handle and opened the door, sliding effortlessly into the seat.  
Cartman followed him to the driver's side, standing in the way so Kenny couldn't close the door. “Fine, then I'll drive you in your shitty car.” 

“No thanks.” Kenny said. His eyes swept over to the floor of the other front seat, and noticed a bottle. He leaned over and picked it up, reading the label. Raspberry Vodka. He could care less how that got there, honestly. He swished the remaining contents inside the bottle around, before putting it on the seat next to him. “Now, if you don't mind, I have to get going. I'm a busy man, you know.” 

“I can already see the headline. ‘Dumb ass hick killed in brutal car crash due to own stubbornness and stupidity. No one to mourn for him.’ Not much of a nice ring to it, I'd say.” Cartman responded, not budging from his spot. 

“Why the hell do you care all of a sudden? You haven't talked to me all school year, and now your worried if I die. Dude, it's too late. We all drifted apart and there's nothing to do to change that. But all of a sudden you can't accept that. You seemed happy being Clyde’s bitch boy.” 

Kenny threw the keys in the ignition and gripped the steering wheel. But Cartman had other ideas as he reached over Kenny and grabbed the keys, successfully turning the car off. 

“Dude!” Kenny exclaimed, trying to grab at the keys Eric had taken. 

“You're drunk, Kenny. And if school has taught me one thing, drinking and driving is a big fat no.” He said. 

“Oh yeah, how drunk are you? Seriously, what happened to the apathetic monster I grew up with. All of the sudden you abide the laws and actually care about your friend's- ex friend’s- wellbeing?” Kenny scoffed, once again trying to snatch the keys from Cartman’s grasp. 

 

Kenny, in a mood soaked with irritation and anger, punched his steering wheel, causing the horn to go off. Cartman jumped, the keys stumbled from his fingers before he caught himself. It pissed Kenny off that all of a sudden Eric was being an actual friend. Why now? What did Cartman want? All the times Kenny could've used a shoulder to lean on or an ear to listen to him, no one was there, especially Cartman. It was suspicious to say the least. Either Cartman was on some type of mood lifting drug that regulates morality or he was trying to manipulate Kenny with his feigned kindness into owing him a favor. And Cartman’s favors weren't the least bit of easy, he would send Kenny on his own tests of the Twelve Labors. Fuck him, Kenny thought. There were no words to describe his confusion, so he sat in silence while Eric continued to stand there. He laid his head against his steering wheel, while his hands still gripped the steering wheel. He just wanted to get home, and knowing Cartman, he wouldn't let Kenny get his way unless he did. 

With a deep inhale, and a loud exhale from his nose, Kenny climbed over the midsection on the car into the passenger seat. 

“Fine.” Is all Kenny uttered. 

Cartman’s expression lifted slightly as he climbed into the driver's seat. 

“Finally, you came to your senses. Maybe you're not as retarded as I originally thought.” Cartman situated himself in the seat, clicking in his seatbelt and turning the keys into the ignition. 

“If you mess with the seat adjustments, I will strangle you.” Is all Kenny said in regards to Cartman. He rested his head against the window, cheek squished against the glass and his breath creating condensation that spread across the surface like an infection. 

The jeep started moving out of the driveway. Cartman maneuvered the car so when he backed out, it could swing onto the road without a problem. The wind started getting restless, Kenny could tell due to the trees being ruthlessly blown against their will. Their leaves crumbled and fell to the ground in spins and twists, and created patterns of oranges and browns. Sometimes, he wish he was a leaf during the fall, because he could just crumble away and be forgotten. He knew his name would be left to the job of oblivion’s hands. No one would remember him. They never do, at least when he died. 

Sometimes he would fantasize what they would say it do if they could remember all his deaths. Would they pity him? Or become apathetic to the fact? He's surprised they never questioned the scars that littered his body and face. Although, most deaths weren't as extreme as to leave long lasting marks. Usually, the most lethal ones, excluding poisons, were the most ugly ones that left the most ugly markings. Burns and knives were the most common. He honestly only had one gunshot scar, and that was situated on his left temple. Tire tracks seemed to fade the fastest, within a couple of days. That was another reason for his parka. He was far from admitting it, but he was honestly insecure about the leftover memories scattered on his arms. And when it was too hot for the parka, he would wear a grey and tattered hoodie left by his brother Kevin. 

No one questioned him though. He would probably would be sent to a institution no matter the answer. How exactly do you make ‘the spawn of the primary worshipped demon summoned by an assembly of cult followers’ sound as normal as it isn't. 

“You seem to be thinking hard.” Cartman interrupted his thoughts. 

“Yeah?” Kenny murmured. 

“Yeah,” Cartman said, taking a left at the corner of the movie theatre that seemed to only be able to play two movies at a time. “Either that, or you're really fucking constipated.” 

“Dude, gross.” Kenny said. 

“Just saying, it's a possibility, you know?” Silence fell over the two for about two minutes, then, once again, Cartman spoke up. 

“What were you thinking about?” 

“Nothin’ important.” 

“Seemed important enough to get you thinking hard enough. And that's a dangerous thing to do, especially for you, McCormick. Last time you tried to think, the plan went sour and you ended up being attacked by those rats that eat away at your shithole shed.” 

“That was like,” Kenny thought for a moment. “Five years ago. Surprised you even remembered that, you'd think the alcohol you consume nightly would kill all your brain cells by now.” 

“Sadly, it hasn't yet. One could only hope though.” He replied. “And how could I forget such a golden moment in our pristine lives. I had to end up beating those deceased bitches off with a broom. And you ended up having to go to the hospital for like fifty fucking rabies shots in the stomach, and you cried like a pussy.” He snorted.

“Oh shut it, you know needles are the worst thing for me. And hey, at least I didn't getting AIDS with the feisty red during my childhood. I got normal shit, like rabies and poison ivy. Chicken pox too. But you just had to go and get an autoimmune deficiency to one up me.” Kenny jabbed back. 

“Fuck you, if you don't remember correctly. I ended up finding the cure out. So obviously I don't have AIDS anymore like a hobo who lives in his own shit and used needles.” 

“I thought it was Kyle who found the cure or something.” Kenny lifted an eyebrow. 

Cartman just huffed and once again they sat in silence. The silence was actually comfortable. No tension, like it had been for years. Now that Kenny thought about it, they really talked like they were actual friends since freshman year. Even then, he knew they were drifting apart. Did he even talk to Kyle anymore? He knew he hung out with Stan, considering they were both on the football team. And he recently started being good friends with Clyde and Token because if football too. He was a jock now. Popular too. Which was surprising to say the least. When Cartman was a kid, he was filled with racist and intolerant jokes that warded everyone off. But Kenny guessed Cartman had really changed from being a huge dick to being a slightly smaller dick. Kenny wasn't too popular. Everyone knew him, and he tried to stay on a friendly basis with everyone, despite how cynical he had become this year especially. He still talked to Kyle sometimes, and always hung out with Craig, Tweek, and sometimes Butters. But other than that, he would act charming and extroverted if he was forced to socialize or at parties. 

He was truly deceitful, as he thought, because everyone knew this jokester, easy going, fun loving, charmer who was always the life of the party. But that was so exhausting for him. At home, by himself, he was just a pothead who the teachers correctly predicted was going to go nowhere in life. He could see it, twenty years from now, he was going to be apart of the ever growing homeless population in South Park, and possibly die alone with no family around of a heroin overdose. 

Next thing Kenny knew, the scene outside the window slowly pulled up to a ratty old home, with the remnants of the Sodosopa district surrounding it. His Jeep jerked toward a but when Cartman parked the car near the curb of the long abandoned train tracks. Kenny’s eyes gazed over the rubble of the architecture that littered his yard. He remembered one time, a steel beam had fallen through the roof into his bedroom, right on top of his bed. While he was in it too. That was one painful way to go. 

Cartman clicked off his seatbelt and opened his car door. The gravel under his construction boots crunched as he made his way to the passenger side. Kenny was quick to open his door before Cartman could get the chance to do it for him. He slipped out of his seat, and hopped to the ground. Kenny nearly lost his footing from the small jump, before hands planted themselves onto his shoulder. 

“Easy there, dude.” Cartman said. 

Kenny shrugged Cartman’s hands off his shoulders. He muttered a small whatever, but he wasn't sure if the other heard him. Eric held out his hand that had held Kenny’s key. Kenny swiped them from his hands and picketed them in his jeans. He slammed his car door shut and stepped around Cartman, trying to avoid anymore talking or touching. 

“Bye.” Kenny said before making it to his front door and slipping inside quietly. He was met with a living room filled with empty cam wrappers, a broken coffee table, and a broken crack pipe (or bowl) he guessed. He knew the pipe was his father's. His mother tried her hardest to be at least somewhat sober. Actually, he was surprised his father's pipe was broken. Either his dad had finally showed up after a week of disappearing, or his mom got super pissed and decided to break shit. Or both. 

Cartman was left outside in the cold with discontent, and started his way home. The breeze started to pick up as Cartman walked over the mix of warm shades of the leaves. He didn't know why he decided to interact with Kenny after so many years, but, at the same time, he did know the reasoning. He just didn't want to think of it right now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The second chapter! My motivation is still going strong for this for, so I guess you should expect a new chapter next week. Xx

It had been over a week since Cartman drove Kenny home. He hasn't talked to him since, and thank god for that. Although, Kenny would see him roaming the halls during passing periods with his little clique of douches. Either he was attentively arguing with Token about a minor offense, or smirking along as he teased an oblivious Clyde. But every time, it seemed, he would catch Kenny’s eyes and lock them in contact for a split second, as to say something. Sometimes Cartman included a lazy and tiny wave of his fingers. Kenny usually just hustled along the halls with rowdy freshmen and upperclassmen who gave up long ago. 

Last bell was Kenny’s study block, which he usually skipped to hang around the back of the building. He would sit with Craig with lit cigarettes in their hands in the unofficial smoking spot. They either sat in indifferent silence, or muttered a few words that consisted of questions and answers to work shared in the classes they had together. But today seemed different. Craig was there, but so was Tweek. Which wasn't like the freak at all. Tweek actually hated smoking, and didn't condone to Craig partaking in the nasty habit. Usually, if Tweek caught Craig in the act, he would slap the cigarette out of his hand and step on it. He then followed that act with an hour long lecture about how the surgeon general's warning was there for a reason and the health implications that could leave Craig in inconvenience. 

“Ah, so Tweek has decided to join the dark side?” Kenny opened up with, making his presence known. He dug a pack of American Spirits out of his coat pockets and a zippo lighter. He grabbed a cancer stick and carefully placed it between his teeth as he cupped his hand around it, and lit it up. He let the smoke drag into his lungs, which caused his head to feel light and his body relaxed. 

“Ngh-no, you know I hate those things!” Tweek shifted uncomfortably, closing any space he had between himself and Craig. “I was just informing Craig ‘bout a- a party being held by Token. This time anyone can come. Which was surprising since- since his last three parties were just pretentious North Park fucks, the football team, and anyone willing to ride their dicks for weed!”

Kenny let a little ‘oooo’ slip between his lips. He took another inhale and watched the smoke tendrils whisk against his face as they disappeared and provided to the air pollution. He twirled the cigarette between his fingers as he offered Craig his pack. Craig shook his head to the offer. Oh, right, Tweek Was practically hanging on him. 

“Man, you’re whipped.” He chuckled. Craig rolled his eyes. 

“Or maybe I just have consideration for others and their feelings.” Craig retorted. 

“Hah! Since when? I thought you were supposed to be that cold hearted bitch who would always brood in the corner.” Kenny said, taking another drag from his flickering cigarette. “You only have consideration for Tweek. AKA, you’re whipped, dude.” 

Craig huffed and breathed out a little ‘whatever’. 

“Anyway, Tweek,” Kenny started. “Got anymore info about this party? Especially as to why exactly Token isn't being so selective about who comes?” 

“Something to do with,” Tweek paused. “Cartman? I think? Rumors going around he's quih- quitting the football team.” 

“Shit, dude, really? Why? He seemed pretty decent at it, and had some type of passion for it. And I guess talent, if you want to call it that.” Kenny raised an eyebrow. 

“I- I don't know? I mean- Gah! I don't know!” Tweek nervously said. 

“Why not ask him yourself, McCormick? I thought you guys started talking, like, last Saturday?” Craig said, putting an arm around Tweek’s shoulder is a calming manner. 

“Nah, I don't know what was up with him, but after like, what? A year of ignoring my existence, he decided he was too worried to let my drive myself home after a party up near the North Park city line.” Kenny 

“Damn, who invited you to a North Park party? You’re the literal embodiment of white trash.” Craig said. 

“Hey, I said near North Park, not in North Park, dumbfuck.” 

“Point still stands.” Craig stated as Tweek let out a noise that was similar to a squeak from a small, scared Chihuahua. Tweek jumped from Craig's side and backed into the outside wall of the school. He pointed with shaky fingers to something by the feet of Craig's Doc Martens. There, with a small paw raised onto the toe of his boot was a seemingly young mouse. Craig smacked his lips at Tweek in possibly annoyance and cupped his hands together. He kneeled down and let the small creature scurry into his hands. Craig cooed at the animal, which was uncharacteristic of him. 

Kenny shrugged and finished off his cigarette, assuming their little chat was over. He flicked it to the ground and toed the still lit cigarette butt on the concrete. That pissed him off. He could honestly care less if people littered half smoked cigarettes, this place was already a shit hole that no one really properly cleaned or cared for. But the least people could do was burn out their cigarettes to prevent a forest fire or something. 

Kenny left the grossly overly affectionate scene for a more comfortable setting. His old beater Jeep with a mismatched car door was parked in the middle of the School's lot. It was surrounded by either electrical cars that must've cost the amount for the tuition of the community college here, or hand-me-downs of cars from the 90s. There was no in between. 

As Kenny closed in on to his Jeep, he noticed a figure leaning against his car hood. The audacity of the person amazed Kenny, until he noticed that stupid blue hat with a yellow trimming and a missing matching yellow pompom on the top. He groaned and shoved his hands into his pockets as he slowed his pace to the car. When Cartman noticed Kenny coming closer, he straightened his posture and gave a small, crooked smile. Kenny rolled his head back in annoyance with another groan, this time it was loud enough for Eric to hear. 

“Well, aren't you excited to see me?” Cartman joked. 

“Shut it,” Kenny said with irritation bubbling in his throat. “What do you want? And why are you allowing your fat ass to cause a dent in my hood?” 

“Oh, I see someone is snappy. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed I see, assuming you finally have an actual bed. Or do you still have the sleeping bag on your floor?” He said with a smile to signify that he was joking. But it still boiled Kenny’s blood. 

“I'll have you know, I've been having a mattress. The only reason I used that camping bag was because some fatass decided to jump on it and break the springs. And that fatass’ name ryhmes with Fartman.” Kenny said with a smirk. He was in high school and saw that his sense of humor didn't change since he was ten years old. 

“Ooo, and it bites back. I like it.” Eric said, taking steps closer to Kenny so they weren't a whole parking spot apart. “Anyway, I came here on important matters concerning your plans this weekend.” 

Kenny stayed quiet, but his expression spoke volumes. He did not want Cartman this close. Too close. Close enough so Kenny could get a whiff of Cartman’s axe spray he probably used in substitution to a shower like a sixth grader. Close enough to see that his hair had turned from the dark brown, to a more mild almond color with random strands of hair so short they waved out. He was close enough, Kenny noticed, that his hat was the same one he had since he was eight but aged and worn to the point of fraying edges and lint balls. 

“Silence looks good on you and all, but I just asked a question in the form of a statement. You'd think despite how dumb you are, you'd be able to pick out the context of a sentence.” Cartman said. 

“Oh, sorry, lemme rephrase that.” Kenny said, taking a small step back. “I really don’t care enough to answer your question and in hopes that you will leave me be, I purposely ignored you. Better?” 

“Youch, I just wanted to see if you wanted to hitch a ride to a party Token is holding this Saturday. I do know that you poor people do love your free alcohol.” Cartman replied. “But I see someone is on their period, and I don't think alcohol and hormones should go together.”

“I'm honored you put me into consideration for once in your life, but I already knew Token was having a part and already decided I have to work that day.” Kenny said, walking around Cartman to get to his Jeep. Cartman turned around to watch Kenny open the door of his car and climb into his vehicle. 

“Would you believe me if I told you it took a lot out of me to not be a narcissistic prick, emotionally and mentally?” 

“Oh, that should be given. We all know how self absorbed you are.” Kenny said lightly as he reached for the door handle in hopes of closing it. But of course the biggest douche North of the equator just had to be in his way. “Why is it that every confrontation or whatever the fuck must stop me from driving my own fucking car?” Kenny said. 

“This isn't a confrontation. I'm simply was just wondering if you wanted a ride, and now I'm wondering why you decided to work that day.” Cartman said in retaliation. 

“So I can make that coin, duh? Isn't that obvious? After all, it seems all your jokes consist of me being poor.”

“Or- alright, hear me out, because I got the perfect explanation- you're avoiding me?” Cartman said with a knowing look that made Kenny roll his eyes. 

“Wow, like you haven't been avoiding me this whole year until this very moment. I don't know what your motives are, fatass, but I got nothin’ for you.” Kenny said. “Now, unlike you, I have a job and responsibilities, and I can't spend every weekend getting high while simultaneously getting STIs.”

“It's not like I wanted to-” 

“To avoid Me? Be friends with me? Since when did the all high and mighty Eric Cartman let people dictate his life? Or were you always a scared little boy who hid behind the personality of a literal monster? The truth has finally come out, I guess.” Kenny snapped back. 

“Wow, and I thought your reputation was supposed to be the calm, care free kinda guy.” Eric said. It was noticeable he had taken a step back, partially out of surprise, partially out of hurt. He knew Kenny meant those things because they weren't exactly wrong. 

“Or maybe I've been fed up with you, and I'm especially fed up with you now.” Kenny scoffed as he was finally able to close his car door. He saw Eric try to objectify, but before he knew it, his keys were in the ignition and he was pulling out of the parking lot. He looked in his rearview mirror to see Cartman left in the middle of the nearly packed lot, with a look indistinguishable to Kenny. 

His Jeep had always made a ear blistering squeaking sound when he used the breaks. But it seemed absolutely deafening right now as he pulled into the lot of the only convenience store with gas pumps within a 50 mile radius in South Park. Oddly, the gas station was centered in the middle of the whole town, so it never took too long to get there from any point. In the glove compartment, he grabbed a faded blue vest with a dingy name tag that read ‘Kenneth’ in a bright red Arial font. He climbed out of his car to the front of the store. He looked over to the gas prices sign that, when lit, was missing a letter. Gas had gone down ten cents. What a steal, he thought. 

He strolled into the store, to behind the counter, where one of his co-workers sat. He jabbed the man with his elbow to which the guy jolted awake to. Kenny was supposed to take over his shift, but the guy had the balls to look upset that he was woken up. Kenny waved a small, passive aggressive wave as the man gathered his stuff and left. He really did hate working here. But Kenny knew this was the only place that had such flexible hours, especially since he was still in High School. He planned on dropping out, but was persuaded by Kyle to finish school at least. Kyle reasoned that a lot more jobs required diplomas these days, and it would be the best route for him considering he still had to support his sister. Plus, Kyle said, if he was ever financially stable and Karen was in a good place as well, he could always go to college or vocational school to learn something he loved. Which would possibly be unlikely, but Kenny liked the thought that maybe one day he could amount to something other than being the poorest kid in a hick town. 

One could dream at least. 

The door to the store rang as a customer walked in. Kenny looked up from the outdated magazine he had in his hand that he wasn't really even reading. Familiar curls of fire red was spotted and Kenny cracked a smile. Well, speak of the devil. 

“Hey dude.” Kenny said as he put the magazine down and leaned against the counter, hands folded. Kyle smiled at him and waved as he disappeared near the fridges filled with cold, nasty gas station food and drinks that were nothing spectacular. The red head came back with two diet cokes and a pack of Advil. 

“One of those days I see.” Kenny looked over Kyle’s selection and started ringing him up. Kyle just sighed and shook his head. 

“You have no idea. Now that Junior year is starting, my mom is absolutely up my ass about colleges and career selections. So she's having me write practice applications? Like for God's sake, I can not live my life for myself even if I wanted to.” Kyle said as he snatched the pack of advil as soon as Kenny rang it up. He teared the cardboard packaging and popped three of the blisters on the pack, swallowing them dry. “And my current mood right now is just bashing my head into the concrete so they can use my body for science so they can study the effects of helicopter parenting.” 

“Wow, sometimes hearing shit like that makes me glad my parents could care less.” Kenny said bagging the two drinks into a white plastic bag with ‘come again’ written in bright red. “I could end up in a prostitution ring and they wouldn't care as long as I fueled their alcoholism. I honestly think they would prefer if I was some kind of sex worker. I heard strippers made, like, fifty-four thousand every few months. Add that on to prostitution, if I stopped everything right now, I could possibly be richer than at least you. Assuming I don't get murdered by an angry customer. ” 

Kyle snickered before slapping his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, I know I shouldn't, but I wish that was relatable.” 

“Nah, it's okay, I'm here to entertain the masses with my pitiful life.” 

Kenny pushed the bag toward Kyle on the counter. Kyle pulled out his wallet, ready to grab his card out before Kenny interrupted.

“It's on me, dude.” Kenny said watching as Kyle opened his mouth to testify. “It's only two bucks and some change, I'll live.” 

Kyle shrugged and grabbed the plastic bag, pocketing his wallet. As he turned to leave, his face lit up and turned back towards Kenny. 

“Has Cartman been trying to talk to you lately?”  
Kyle asked. Kenny groaned. “I take that as a yes.”

“Dude, he drove me home after a party last weekend because all of a sudden he was worried about me driving partially drunk. Like who does he think he is? Fuck, then he offered me a ride to a party at Token’s this weekend literally not even an hour ago.” Kenny said, exasperated. 

“Oh, you heard about the party. Surprised he's letting anyone go. I think it's because it's the beginning of the year. But, yikes, what'd you do about that?” Kyle asked as he adjusted the plastic bag on his wrist. 

“Obviously said no, and told him I was busy. Which, I mean, isn't entirely wrong. I might be busy just laying in my room waiting for a meteor to crush me, but I'm not entirely sure if I even want to go.” Kenny shrugged. 

“Me too. I might go, for Stan’s sake. Make sure he doesn't drink too much. You should tag along with us, then you'll at least have a reliable designated driver.” Kyle offered 

“Maybe.” Kenny simply said. 

“Well, text me if you decide to come. I've gotta get back to the house to watch Ike. And hopefully avoid my mother. See you, man.” Kyle, once again, turned around to leave with his bag situated on his wrist. 

“Bye, and say hi to the brat for me.” Kenny offered. 

“Same with Karen.” Kyle said with a final wave before leaving. 

The rest of Kenny’s shift was made up of quiet and miserable looking customers, and games of paper football with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, let me know if I gotta change anything xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. It's been hectic. But hey, I got a majority of the next chapter finished already!!! Let me know if there's any errors, I wrote this pretty fast.

Kenny could be found standing outside the 7-11, a little out of city line from South Park, bumming smokes off of strangers. He would loiter there after school if he had no work straight after. He noticed a lot of people liked smoking cheap cigarettes, like Marlboros. Which was understandable, prices and taxes for the tobacco sticks had gone up a considerate amount in the past years. Which also made people more stingy towards their packs. It took Kenny about five times to successfully receive a cigarette after asking. It's not his fault he can't afford smokes half the time. 

The stranger had a pack of Marlboro gold 100s, which wasn't Kenny’s favorite brand, but it should calm his nicotinic rage. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag. He could feel his lungs suffocate in the carbon monoxide and the thick tar inside becoming copiously bigger. He felt his head release the pressure of his migraine, and his shoulders drooped in relief. He let his thoughts wander to subjects that he had been hiding in the back burner of his mind as he enjoyed his smoke. Like why Cartman all of the sudden started to be friendly to him again. Well, that might be the only thing he was thinking about. Now that he realized it, Cartman snuck his way onto Kenny’s thoughts quite a bit. Especially now. 

Once he got infamously popular with the jocks, he dropped a lot of his friends he had since elementary. Which pissed Kenny off to no extent at first, but he got used to it. It was Cartman after all, he wasn't that great of a friend in the first place. So really, it was just a shrug of the shoulders to Ken. Now that he thought of it, Kenny never really had friends. Or at least a best friend that would paint rasta colors on his toes as they talked about the latest gossip swimming around the fish bowl. No one he could really trust. His relationships were just filled with flakes, liars, and one night stands. A contact list of no ones. 

And he doubt Cartman had any type of relationships outside of fake smiles and bro fists. Which led the majority of the school he wasn't one to be sentimental at all about friends or even family. Which was another reason why Kenny believe he had other motives to try to rekindle old sparks. 

He flicked the ash from his cigarette, and watched as the ashes fell onto his brown leather boots. A silver lexus pulled into the parking lot of the convenient store with a familiar face as the driver. It parked and all four doors of the car flew open. Token out of the driver's side, Clyde stepped out from the passenger's door, and Cartman and Bebe were revealed to be the backseat drivers. Kenny groaned and let the cigarette he had simmer in his mouth. He stepped from the wall he was leaning on amd grabbed the smoke to exhale the smoke. Cartman spotted him almost instantly and he smiled. Kenny tried to ignore him and walk to his car, but Cartman jogged his way over like a white person crossing the street who didn't want to hold up traffic. 

“Ken, wait.”

Kenny rolled his eyes and without looking back, replied. 

“What in the fuck do you want, man?” Kenny opened the door of his beat up Jeep and climbed into the driver's seat. He didn't close the door behind him so he could hear Cartman’s asinine words of bullshit. 

“I wanted to see about you coming to the party. I haven't heard from you since I proposed the invite, and I wanted to know. We're on our way now.” Cartman threw a thumb over a shoulder and gestured to his group of halfwits. 

Kenny peered over his shoulder and saw Token making a purchase of Corona as Clyde talked to an uninterested Bebe. 

“Since when did she hang out with y'all?” Kenny thought out loud. 

Cartman looked back and looked at Bebe. Bebe looked back at Cartman and gave a smile you give to those you want to fuck later. But that smile wasn't for Cartman. 

“Oh, Bebe? Recently. Why? You know her?” Cartman inquired. 

“Yeah, a little. We used to- hang out sometimes.” Kenny replied. “But anyway, if that's all you wanted to ask, I'm gonna get going.” 

“But you didn't even give a direct answer.” 

“Well, it sure hasn't changed.” Kenny groaned. 

“Dude, come on.” Cartman insisted, “It'll be wild. Drugs, desperate chicks, booze, the whole nine yards.”

“Why the fuck are you so persistent on this? You disapear from my life for years and you come back with this shit all of the sudden. Just be straighfoward and tell me what you really want.” 

Cartman was silent for a moment. His eyes showed he was looking for a good answer, which was unlikely he had a good one. 

“Because- I miss the times we hung out together. They were fun and way cooler than hanging with these bozos all the time. All they want to do is party and do steroids.”

“Sounds perfect for you though.” Kenny jabbed. 

“Yeah, well, I'd rather chill and smoke up. Laugh till I shit, y’know?” 

“Oh, so you just want a weed jocky. You want me to be your mule? Or to grow?” Kenny scoffed and shook his head. 

“Nah, dude, I just want to hang like the good days again. And I thought this party would be a- bonding experience if you will.” 

Kenny inhaled deeply and ran a hand through his greasy and knotted hair. “Then why did you eagerly suck Token’s dick to be on the football team and dip?”

“Way to make it sound like I'm a huge fag.” 

“Good thing that's the problem here then.” Kenny huffed and watched Token carry two six packs out of the store and to the car. 

“You coming, Eric!” Clyde shouted. Kenny watched clyde open the door for Bebe, to which she seemed annoyed about. 

“Come on, people are going to be showing up soon!” Token shouted after him. 

Cartman looked back at that and nodded, “I'll be right there, gimme a sec!” 

“So, are you coming?” Eric asked again. 

“Are you dense?” Kenny asked back. 

“I guess we can just say I'm used to getting my way.” 

“Selfish prick.” The blond closed the door to his Jeep and rolled the window down. “There better be some good ass drugs or I'm suing you for false advertising.” 

Cartman exclaimed, “That's my man! I'll see you there.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Kenny sounded defeated almost. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be thrilled or otherwise. He really only agreed to go just so Cartman would hop off his dick. He gripped the steering wheel and waited for silver car to drive off so he could follow. 

Here we go, he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter as quick as I can to make up for the whole month I didn't post uwu  
> Sorry for any mistakes, point them out if you want. I'll fix it if I feel like it

Her lips tasted like medicated strawberry chapstick and her mouth was coated in the aftertaste of beer. The borderline techno music danced with the sounds of hollering and shouting of the other partiers. Kenny’s fingers were tangled in a silk blanket of blonde highlights and rustic brown strands. The girl was sat up on the counter in the kitchen while Kenny stood between her knees, gripping her waist. They were possibly obstructing the way to the cheap drinks and stale chips, but those cheap drinks were obstructing his common sense and rational thought process. 

The girl, in the least disrespectful way possible, was nothing special. As in, she looked the same as every other North Park girl. Acrylic nails dipped in an obnoxious pink, promiscuous clothes that could land her in trouble with the wrong guy, and hair dyed to hide her natural color. She was that white girl who probably cried when Starbucks closed most of its stores for racial bias training, or her daddy prohibited her from using his credit card after buying eight hundred bucks of makeup she probably wouldn't use half of. Entitled. That's the word. And she was acting really needy at this moment as Kenny could feel her nails dig into the back of his head and interlocking her legs, trapping Kenny, as she tried to keep him close. 

She was hot at least. Real hot, Kenny would say. She probably had a nice personality too and a great laugh or something. Too bad Kenny wouldn't see her again after tonight. Instead, they would both go on with their lives never wondering about the other, because tonight would be a drunken blip in his memory. 

Kenny’s hands gingerly left her waist and traveled down to the outside of her thighs and went inward. He broke the kiss to make his way down to her neck and nibbled not so gingerly. Moans left her lips. They were obviously fake or she was greatly intoxicated, either way they sounded like she was trying too hard. 

“You know Token has guest bedrooms for a reason, yeah?” 

At first, the voice didn't process through Kenny and he kept forming hickeys at the girl's neck. But then, the person spoke up again. 

“He doesn't want your teenage pheromones coating the counter, which his parents use to cook their family meals.” 

Kenny pulled away from the chick’s neck once he understood he was being spoken to. Half lidded, stone grey eyes crossed paths with Cartman’s hazel filled eyes and immediately Kenny scoffed. He debated for a moment whether to respond or keep going, but the mood was ruined. Cartman’s presence alone just made Kenny cringe. 

“And?” Kenny said. The girl's legs dropped from his back and she scooted further back onto the counter. Kenny stepped away, closer to Cartman so he could hear him, and left a hand resting on the girl's thigh. 

“And, I’d advise you to stop and bring it to a room or the back of your jeep.” Cartman responded with a smirk. 

“Cool, thanks.” Kenny rolled his eyes and turned back to the girl, he pulled her closer and brought her back to a kiss. She made a happy sound and melted back to the kiss. 

“Gross, dude.” Cartman said. “Doesn't the poor girl know how many tongues or otherwise have been in that white trash mouth of yours.”

This time, the girl broke the kiss and looked at Cartman with disdain. Kenny heaved a big sigh and didn't even look back at him. 

“Isn't pervy to watch?” Kenny asked with a hint if venom seething from his throat. “And the fuck do you care for? Not like you had much consideration to people's wishes.”

“I'll let you know, I have changed as a person. Like a caterpillar through metamorphosis.” Cartman responded with drops of condescension and sarcasm.

The girl seemed done. She crossed her arms with a pout forming on her face. Her precisely drawn-on, thick eyebrows angled down and she scooted off the counter. She was noticeably shorter than Kenny and nearly Cartman’s height. Well, it seemed like everyone was shorter than Kenny, who was a toppling 6’3”, while Cartman was only 5’9”. Honestly, with Kenny’s diet only consisting of pop tarts and cigarettes, you would've guessed his growth would’ve been stunted. The girl reached Kenny’s shoulders, but barely, that's only if you counted the hair stacked on her hair and coated with hairspray to stay in place. Kenny groaned as she made her way back into the mix of sweaty, dancing bodies and drunken stumbles. 

“What the fuck is your deal, man?” Kenny snapped. He turned to Cartman with grey eyes that stormed with frustration and a lip that twitched into a angered frown. He walked towards Cartman until he was practically posturing him. He wasn't having it, and he was drunk. 

Cartman put his arms up in defense as he took a step back. “Hey, dude, I was just trying to tell you the facts. Token would've been pissed to find your poor boy spunk covering his rich guy counter.” 

“No, I mean in general?” He asked viciously. “You're all of a sudden bothering me after a year of giving me the silent treatment because you were scared what your masters would think of their bitch boy, huh. Why bother me when you can get a mouth full of Token, dickhead?” 

Cartman wasn't going to let his face contort into a pained look of an actual insulted nature. Instead he shrugged it off and straightened his back. 

“Dude, look, I'm just tryna help, even mend anything we have left, if we have anything left. You know, I'm serious when I say I'm changing, ‘cause I got that I've been a worse asshole than a Mexican coke dealer to his wife. And I feel like I don't got much longer to fix that.” 

That felt too heartfelt to have come from Cartman, and Kenny knew he was lying. Cartman always used to say he changed or were changing, and then he would prove wrong by manipulating Kenny or hurting literally everyone in South Park. So many times he was fucked over by Eric, and now wouldn't be any different. 

“Oh, shut it. You ain't changing, you just want to reign in people for your own manipulative needs, as usual.” Kenny was done. He needed a joint, or the very least a smoke. He glided pass Cartman's stout body with a shove. He walked through the passageway of the dining room to the living room, which was being used as an impromptu dance floor. The room was quite large and very minimalistic, with just a black leather loveseat and a matching couch that formed an L in the corner. The seventy inch television was moved to a back room  
because, last time Token had a party, someone from the lower dumps of South Park stole it. The wooden coffee table was pushed against a wall to be used to set cups (at their own risk) and snacks down. 

Kenny sifted through the sweaty bodies the produced a smell that radiated the drugs they took and you could point out the specific alcoholic brand they drank individually. He predicted either Cartman was going to follow Kenny to the back porch or he was hopefully left to his own devices. But that seemed too hopeful because, lo and behold, Eric was trailing behind. With a mind too heavy to care, Kenny kept making his way to the back of the house. Soon, he reached a glass sliding door that lead to the backyard. From the looks of it, not many people ventured out here unless to smoke. However, it seemed that the lump near the bushes that lined the back if the house was a drunken body passed out. 

Kenny slid the door open and took a step outside. The aroma of fall leaves and dewy grass filled his nose, and thats was a drastic contrast to the smell the filled the crowded rooms of partiers. 

He followed stepping stones of granite.  
to a glass patio table set. The seats of the table was a little wet by the previous rainfall, but nothing Kenny worried about. He took off his brutally orange jacket and placed it on top of the cushions. He pulled the chair out by a few more inches so his long legs could fit, and plopped down with a huff. In his peripheral vision, he saw Eric move closer to the table set Kenny was situated at. Like a baby duck follows its mother. 

Kenny felt around the jacket he sat on until he found the pocket with his cigarette carton. 

Inside that carton was his lighter, with skulls in red printed on it, five cigarettes, and a (one) cone shaped joint. 

He grabbed the joint and rolled it between his index finger and thumb. It must've been the most beautiful joint he had ever rolled. The paper was so even and the filter fit it just right. It wasn't over filled or sold short, it was remarkable. His admiration for the simple things in life was cut short as a giant grunt filled Kenny’s ears. Cartman sat next to Kenny in one of the wet chairs and side eyed the joint that was being held. Kenny shrugged and lifted the stick to his mouth. With his free hand cupping the lighter, he lit the joint. 

A nice inhale of the intoxicating smoke tickled Kenny’s throat all the way down to his lungs. He let the smoke sift out through his teeth and nostrils for a moment before exhaling a cloud. The smoke danced gracefully against the night sky and moonlight. 

“Blunts are better, lowkey.” Cartman had interrupted. He nodded towards the cannabis Kenny was smoking, and shrugged like he knew better. “Plus, the smoke is always thicker and comes in flavored wraps. Like peach or mango. Nice burn to it too.” 

“Actually, bongs and bowls are where my shits at. Bongs are super easy to overdo it and spend the night couch-locked disassociating. But bowls come in colorful varieties and easier to get your money's worth. At least that my opinion.” He took another hit and watched as Eric eyed the damned thing. Kenny let the tendrils of smoke whip out of his mouth and gestured towards Cartman with the joint. 

Eric happily took it. “I guess i just prefer old school methods, huh? “ 

He took a long drag off of the filter, and slowly exhaled the smoke, to which he then inhaled the smoke again. He let the smoke sit in his lungs before he officially blew out. He handed the doob back to Kenny and gave an appreciative nod. 

“This doesn't necessarily mean I like you again. You're still a giant, uncircumcised dick.” Kenny said before taking another drag. 

“It's a start?” Cartman asked. Kenny stayed quiet and gave a grunt. A dismissive grunt, but it felt oddly reassuring to Eric. 

“Make what you want of it.” Kenny guessed. “Although, I'm not sure why you're so persistent on trying amend a friendship that wasn't very friendly in the first place. Plus, I'm not so naive anymore. Why not try to convince someone else, who isn't familiar to the shit you do, to be your laggy and force to do your manipulative deeds of selfishness?” Mind boggling. 

“Whose got time for that, though? School's almost finished for us, for good. So, before we part ways, I wanted to- fix shit up. Ya know?” Cartman responded. 

“But why? That's my question. Why?” Kenny leaned forward in his seat to hear Cartman better. Amd see him. Because his vision was already wavy and things were sounding slow and distorted for him in a pleasant way. 

“Maybe I had a life changing trip. Acid ‘nd molly can do that to you, haven't you heard. Or maybe I've actually matured for a guy my age. A lot happens within a year.” He explained. 

“But it seems so- out of the blue.” Kenny handed the joint back to Cartman, who gratefully took it. 

“Okay, but guess what, everything happens out of the blue. One day nothing's going on, the next day construction for a Harbucks is happening. One day you have no friends, the next, you could have someone to call a best friend. One day you're not dating, the next, you grow a pair and ask them out. Things can be planned out, but you don't carry those plans out till one day, and it'll seem out of the blue.” Eric used wild gesticulation to prove his point. And it was charming in an odd way for Kenny. 

“How smacked are you? You just took one hit, and you're talking like Ari-fucking-stotle. All philosophical and shit.” Kenny chuckled. 

“Thank.. you? I'm not trynna be, I'm just trynna explain myself.” Cartman said. He took another hit from it, and passed it back. He coughed and smoke spilled from his mouth. The coughing subsided for a minute before he started hacking. 

“You good, man?” Kenny asked. 

Cartman waved dismissively. “I'm good, just got caught off guard for a moment. I inhaled more than I thought I did.” 

Kenny sat in the silence for a minute, looking up at the stars. The moon's light bounced off of the oak trees’ leaves scattered around the yard. The dew on the fallen soggy leaves glistened. He looked back at Cartman, who was watching the sky as well. More focused on the stars than the grass. 

“This party was a bust, lowkey. I think I'm gonna dip.” Kenny broke the silence. He stood from his seat and gathered his now moistened jacket. He shoved his carton into the back pocket in his jeans. “Need a ride?” He offered to Cartman. 

“Yeah, sure.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while lol sorry. I decided to write a rushed chapter bc I smoked up. No proof read either lmao

Due to the driveway being filled with overpriced cars and the couple hundreds of people that had got themselves in Token’s house, Kenny had to park his car down the road on the curb. It was a bit of a walk, but Kenny felt so nice walking with the cold air blowing against his stoned body. Kenny’s parka was folded in his arms, as his other arm was focused on digging out his keys from his pocket. 

Cartman was following behind him. He was walking a bit slower with his eyes on the ground. Kenny just assumed he was trying to focus on walking because of the gas they just smoked. Soon, they had reached Kenny’s Jeep, as remembered, it was still parked on some stranger’s curb. Surprising it wasn’t towed. 

He walked up to the driver’s side of the car and stuck his key in the lock. He opened the door with a slight jerk and heaved himself into the driver’s seat. Kenny leaned over the median of the car and pulled the lock of the passenger’s car door up. Almost immediately Cartman climbed into the car as well. As soon as Cartman had sat down, he grunted. Kenny stuck the key into the ignition, and with a few sputters of the engine, the car started. He slowly pulled off the curb, and as straight as he could, he drove off. 

Cartman watched the moving picture outside his window as they drove out of the neighborhood. The tree were nearly naked and the grass seemed to brown. The clouds looked full and they covered the stars of the night time now. The disappearing moon played peek-a-boo behind the clouds as well. 

“They say winter is supposed to come early.” Cartman said simply. “That it’s supposed to snow soon.” 

Kenny hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Remember when it snowed so bad in eighth grade that school was closed. And we spent the whole day throwing snowballs with hidden rocks at all the douches in e-cars. And I ‘accidentally’ hit Kyle in the back.” Cartman reminisced. “He didn’t talk to me for a week until I smoked him up for the first time. All of us, you and me and Stan and Kyle, were so blitzed that we were actually friendly and acting like functional friends.” 

“What about it?” Kenny asked. 

“I’m serious when I say I miss those times. Even though I was a dick all the time. A massive one. Life just passes so fast it seems sometimes, and those memories feel like they were just yesterday. Ya know? It’s scary sometimes, because you never know when you’re gonna go, and you’ll only remember these memories for a quick little bit, then they’re gone one day because you’re gone. And you’ll never know that you’re gone or that you had these memories or you were a person because you’re dead. It’s so temporary.” 

Cartman laid out a heavy atmosphere with those words. Too relevant and truthful for Kenny to listen to. Because he always knows when he’s dead, but never dead for long, yet life always did seem it was brief. And each death seemed to take a piece of his memories with him. He never had a good memory because of that, even before the drugs or alcohol. 

“That’s some- real shit you said. You okay?” Kenny side eyed Cartman, where he saw Cartman shift in his seat so he was leaning against the window. 

“Just stoned and thinkin’, remember I told you it can be a dangerous thing.” He responded. 

“Yeah, I guess you did.” Kenny shrugged it off, but the words would always hang in the air between them until they died. 

The car swung onto Cartman’s road and they inched closer to his house. Before they reached his house, the sudden yell of the generic ringtone on his burner phones had startled Kenny. He slowed down into Cartman’s driveway, and dug his phone out of the pocket of his discarded parka. ‘KAREN’ flashed across the cheap and shattered screen. He picked up and put the phone to his ear. 

“Hey, sunshine, what’s up?” Kenny started with. 

“Uh, hey Ken,” Karen had sounded reluctant. 

“Is somethin’ up? You okay?” Kenny could tell his drunken accent was showing, but he tried his best to sound as coherent as possible. 

“Yeah, actually, uh,” Karen paused. “Dad’s back, and now Mom and Dad are fighting. They were being loud and I think they started throwing things?” She sounded unsure. 

“What do you mean they ‘were’ being loud?” 

“I mean that I don’t know if they are still are being loud because I’m at Ruby’s now. I left through the window so I could avoid them. But I, uh, just thought I would give you a heads up.” She responded. 

“Fuck, okay, so you’re safe?” He asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well, thanks for telling me, sunshine. I’m glad you left, thank Craig and Ruby for me.” Kenny looked over to Cartman who was staring intently on Kenny with his eyebrows raised. 

“You’re gonna be safe too, right Ken?” Karen asked in an almost whimper. 

“Of course, aren’t I always?” 

“Okay, night Kenny.” She said after a moment of silence. “Love you.”

“Night Kare, sleep well, love you too.” Kenny said before he lowered the phone from his ear and hung up. 

Kenny looked over to Cartman who was still watching him. Cartman opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. There was a small awkward moment of silence, and Cartman turned away. 

“Everything okay?” Cartman asked, still faced towards the window. 

Kenny takes a hand through his hair, and sighed. 

“Same old, ya know? Parents are fighting and if I go home I might get in the middle of it. Karen just called to let me know that, and that she was safe.” 

A small ‘oh’ slipped from Cartman’s lips and looked back at Kenny. 

“You need a place to sleep tonight?” 

A shrug was all Cartman got out of Kenny. Kenny’s head was lowered with his cheek resting in the palm of his hand, waiting for Cartman to get out so he could probably sleep in his Jeep in the parking lot of his job. 

“Come on, you’re already parked and your high as shit, and probably borderline blackout drunk. You might as well.” Cartman said, trying to avoid the fact that he didn’t directly ask if Kenny wanted to spend a night at his house. 

‘Fuck it’ was all Kenny said before practically ripping the keys from the ignition. He unbuckled his seat belt and look at Cartman, waiting for him to get out first. Cartman led the way out for the car and to his front door. The door was unlocked probably due to the fact Cartman’s mom sometimes took walk-in customers. He walked in, and Kenny trailed behind. He kicked his shoes off in the middle of the living room and Kenny followed suit. 

“You know where my room is, you can just go ahead in. If you want, obviously.” Cartman said gesturing towards the state. 

“Alright.” Kenny said as he started to walk up the stairs. Cartman nodded and turned towards the passageway of his kitchen. He spotted a white grocery bag sitting on top of the dining table, which Cartman went straight for. He opened the bag, and saw a few key foods for the Cartman household, like bread and peanut butter and ramen. There was also a box of snack cakes, a bag of cheese puffs, and fruit snacks. Perfect, Cartman thought. He grabbed the chips and fruit snacks, then rummaged the fridge for two cans of Dr Pepper. As he closed the fridge, he saw a discarded and empty bottle of pills that was hidden from his view because of the fridge door. He sighed hard, and left the kitchen. 

He made sure all the downstairs lights were off before ascending up the stairs, juggling the snacks in his arms. Cartman noticed the bathroom light was on and his lit up room was opened and empty. He knocked on the bathroom door. 

“Kenny?” He asked. 

Kenny also immediately responded. 

“Yeah, be out in a sec.” 

Cartman said a small ‘K’ before going into his room and throwing the food on his bed. While Kenny was in the bathroom, Cartman had changed from his party clothes, that reeked of alcohol and gas, into clean basketball shorts and a black tank top. Kenny emerged from the bathroom a few seconds later and raised an eyebrow at the food on his bed. 

“Munchies.” Cartman simply said before opening his side table drawer, revealing a tin lunch box. Cartman grabbed the tin and set it on his bed before moving the snacks on top of his bedside table. He opened the box, revealing a pre-wrapped blunt and blunt wraps, a baggie, and a white bic lighter. Cartman fell back into his bed and sat indian style and gestures for Kenny to do the same. 

Kenny had left his parka in the car, which bothered him bc he was anxious. He just wanted to sink into it and bury his head in the worn out faux fur. His arms were exposed because of the white undershirt he had on, and his face was clearly visible, and he wanted to sink and sink into his parka until he suffocated in it. Kenny sat down on the bed next to Eric, and eyes the blunt. 

“Isn’t she a beaut?” Cartman asked, lifting up the blunt. Kenny nodded. 

Cartman grabbed the light and raised the blunt to his lips. He cuffed his hand around the flame of his lighter and lit the blunt. He took a long drag and handed it to Kenny. As Kenny hit the blunt, Cartman exhaled through his nose. 

They sat for a while in comfortable silence, passing the blunt between them. Cartman eventually got up and turned his CD player on, before pressing ‘bluetooth’. To where Cartman then grabbed his phone and put on punkish sounding rap. 

“This is way better than the shitty house rock Token was playing.” Kenny said. 

Cartman silently agreed. 

They finished off the blunt a few minutes later and Cartman threw the butt of the blunt into an ashtray hidden in his tin box. 

Cartman left the room for a moment, and Kenny took the opportunity to start indulging in the junk food Cartman brought in with him. He popped open a soda and grabbed a fruit snack pouch. As he waited for Cartman’s return, Kenny took in the sight of Cartman’s room. It changed considerably compared to the last time he was in here. Instead of packed up toys in boxes set in the corner of the room and dirty laundry and trash, and reminisce of his Pokémon obsession, there were Redskin and rock posters, and CDs littered on his desk, and shit tons of new technology. It was much cleaner too, with the exception of an overflowing laundry basket. 

Cartman returned with a pile of pillows and blankets. 

Kenny grabbed the stack from Cartman and muttered a thanks. 

“No problem, I gotta be a good host, I’m sure it’ll be a nice change to sleep with pillows and blankets on the floor than just that sleeping bag you have.” Cartman quipped. 

“Dick, I told you I have a mattress now.” Kenny rolled his eyes. He made his place with the mismatched bedding on the floor, and laid down on his back. 

Cartman didn’t touch any of the food for himself that he had brought in. He could feel waves of drowsiness hit him and he was too tired to remember the food was there. He clapped his hands and the light turned off. 

Kenny watched the ceiling, counting the bumps on it. Soft snores were heard, and Kenny felt more relaxed immediately. They smoked in peaceful silence and Kenny didn’t constantly have the urge to deck him. It was nice, to oddly put it. Which caught Kenny off guard for the whole nice. Cartman acted genuine. He invited Kenny in and then they smoked his stash without bickering. Even the poor joke Cartman told him, wasn’t even an actual bother. It was weird. So fucking weird. But it was nice to think Cartman was changing, even if Kenny fully believe it still. 

“Thanks Eric.” Kenny said finally, before rolling over and closing his eyes. 

They both slept straight through the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a filler chapter that really isn’t great

Kenny wasn’t there when Cartman had woken up the next morning. Both him and his Jeep were gone from his home, and it didn’t bother Cartman. Kenny probably had left early to check on his sister, or possibly he had work. Either way, Cartman could care less. He knew it wasn’t a sleepover they had, Kenny just needed a place for the night, so Cartman greeted him with hospitality. They even smoked in peace together. It was a win, win for both boys. Cartman had gotten a chance to prove he was trying to change for the better, and Kenny had gotten a safe place to rest his head for the night. 

It was tough for Cartman to do a 180 jump with his attitude and personality, but he really did get scared into the change. He learned that he was alone, and he didn’t want to die alone. Especially now. 

The football team was great, and they were great guys to party or hang with, but it was missing a connection. It seemed like all his friendships had little to no connection, and that he really was alone all throughout his boyhood. He had a chance of having genuine friends with Kenny and all them, but he was too busy being ignorant and naïve about the world. Then he grew up and learned that the world would and could fuck him over at any moment without a pang of regret. 

He first became aware of how alone he was when he turned thirteen. Cartman woke up on his birthday to his mom gone. He thought maybe she was just shopping, but the day passed by and she had yet to come home. Three days later she was back, and Cartman never had cried so hard. He felt so abandoned those four days, that he thought she was never coming back, and when she did he yelled. His mother was so dismissive about it, and after five minutes of trying to pry information out of his mom, he gave up. 

Later that week, while he was rummaging through his mom's purse for spare change for ice cream, he found two bottles of pills. Not knowing what they were, he looked them up. He had just found opiates in his mother’s purse. When his mom came downstairs to retrieve her purse, she caught Cartman with the bottles in his hands. He gave his mother a cold and hard stare and threw the pills to the ground. He stormed out of the house that moment with tears welling in his eyes. 

He wasn’t stupid when he was younger, he just seemed stupid for all the bullshit that sprouted from his mouth. Cartman and his mom never spoke of that incident, but she had to deal with the fact that he silently knew and judged her for it. 

From then on, no one was reliable to Cartman. 

….

Kenny woke up to the shitty digital ringtone on his phone at six in the morning. Which signaled that if Kenny didn’t get up right then, he would be late for work at the shitty, little convenience store. Luckily, Cartman seemed like a heavier sleeper than his BMI, so it was easy for the poor boy to sneak out without a sound. He didn’t want to wake up Cartman and risk an awkward goodbye, so he just hoped Cartman wouldn’t take offense to this. 

Kenny gathered his clothes from last night and quietly slipped into Cartman’s bathroom to change. He catched a glimpse of himself in the mirror just as he was about to leave the room, and he looked rough. His blonde waves looked nappy and greasy, the bags under his eyes ran thick, his stone colored eyes looked pale and cloudy, and the pretense of a five o’clock shadow was forming on his chin and upper lip. He looked almost homeless, which wasn’t far from the truth he supposed, but he sure as hell didn’t want to look the part. 

Kenny rolled his eyes at himself, shrugged it off as he turned the doorknob to the bathroom, and left. 

The iconic orange coat slipped onto his shoulders as he crossed the barrier of Cartman’s home and into his yard. He rummaged for his car keys which were normally in his breast pocket of his coat, but were found in his jean pockets. Kenny approached his beat-up Jeep and gave the driver side door a tug, and unsurprisingly it was unlocked. He slipped into the car seat and put the keys in the ignition. As he was about to pull out into the road, Kenny gave the window of Cartman’s room one last look. Maybe, Kenny thought to himself. 

“Maybe everything is changing.” He whispered to himself and made his way to work. 

…

The door of the cramped gas station/convenience store jingled as customers walked in. That bell always peeved Kenny off simply because it sounded obnoxious. Not only that, but because the whole store was always eerily silent with the exception of a bell ringing every two minutes. Sometimes the bell startled Kenny, mainly when he started drifting asleep. 

One thing that Kenny did enjoy about this job was all the colorful characters that came through. So far his favorite customer was a party clown who looked like and smelled like an alcoholic hobo simply because he had given up one life. The clown even gave some advice to Kenny. 

“I was once you, kid, stuck in odd jobs with shit management. For fucks sake, I practically get vomited on for a living, and you know what that taught me, kid? The world don’t owe us shit except unfairly impossible obstacles meant to delay us from reaching our goals, because shit truly never ends up how you want it. Ain’t that some tough shit?” The clown slurred before popping open his malt drink and leaving. 

Kenny had agreed with the clown too. God, he was that clown when he thought of it. Being so jaded and nihilistic of the world and turning to substance abuse. Kenny wouldn’t be surprised if that was his future self trying to warn him that he is bound to reach a dead end in his life. 

The jingle of the door’s bell woke Kenny from his thoughts just like he was used to, except this time Cartman had popped in. Kenny scoffed and shook his head as Cartman winked without a pause and disappeared into the back aisles. He soon came back with two iced coffees from the coolers and a muffin. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just here for gas, not to disrupt you from work no matter how tempted I may be.” Cartman said. 

“Really? Because I feel like that little wink you slipped in with says otherwise.” Kenny replied as he scanned Cartman’s makeshift breakfast.

“So now it’s a crime to be charming? I must’ve missed the memo.” Cartman smirked and slid a twenty on to the counter. “Ten on pump five, please.” 

“That’ll be $15.63.” Kenny announced. 

“Keep the change.” Cartman said and quickly gathered his purchase. As he made his way out, he turned one last time to Kenny and winked again. Kenny chuckled in return. As he was about to sit down again, he noticed one of the iced coffees was left on the counter with a post-it note next to it. 

‘For you ;)’ it read. 

Kenny smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if anything needs to be fixed xx


End file.
